


Sick Day

by JustAnotherWriter (N1ghtshade)



Category: Monster Trucks (2017)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N1ghtshade/pseuds/JustAnotherWriter
Summary: “Ah-” Tripp can feel the sneeze coming on, but he can’t sneeze now. The last time he did, he dropped the wrench and had to go hunting for it under the truck, with Creech deciding to be a pest and batting it away every time he reached for it.Just a cute little sickfic cause some of my friends convinced me I had to write for this fandom...they didn't need to twist my arm too hard!





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little late to the game, but there's literally almost NOTHING out here for this fandom, and I've played with the idea of writing some stuff for it for a while, then got a friendly push...so here goes!

“Ah-” Tripp’s bent over under the hood of the truck, readjusting a couple of bolts that got jarred loose the last time Creech decided to take them off roading. He can feel the sneeze coming on, but he can’t sneeze  _ now.  _ The last time he did, he dropped the wrench and had to go hunting for it under the truck, with Creech deciding to be a pest and batting it away every time he reached for it.

The sneeze refuses to go away, ticking in the back of his nose until he just can’t help it. He shouldn’t have tried to force it away, because now it’s even stronger than the last one, and he bangs his head on the hood, making his headache worse...and the wrench clatter to the floor. Again. 

He hears Creech gurgle, and then the rattle of metal sliding away. 

“Hey, give that BACK!” He says sharply. Creech whines and the wrench comes sliding out from under the truck, clinking against one of Tripp’s boots. 

“Sorry buddy.” he didn’t mean to snap at the little monster, it’s just that his head hurts and he’s tired and he still has class tomorrow morning. 

He sneezes again, and stumbles, leaning back against the truck, suddenly very dizzy.  _ Oh no. _ He barely even ate today, he wasn’t hungry, with the sore throat he’s been trying to ignore, but he still knows he’s going to be sick.

He’s barely able to grab for one of the empty pails for draining oil into before it’s too late. He’s vaguely aware of something gently patting his back, and when he looks up to see what it is, Creech has crawled out of the truck chassis and curled into a large blob beside him, burbling comfortingly and trying to rub his back with one tentacle.

“Thanks.” Tripp leans back against one of the tires, pushing his sweaty hair off his face, all of a sudden it’s too hot in this barn. His hand slaps against something cool and vaguely slimy. Creech’s tentacle is already starting to push his hair back, and the little monster’s big dark eyes look worried, staring down at him. 

“It’s okay, buddy, this happens sometimes,” Tripp says, putting a hand on the tentacle still brushing over his face. The coolness feels good, resting against his cheek. He’s not sure what these creatures’ reaction to getting sick is, Meredith might be better able to figure that out, but maybe they’re more likely to die if they get sick. Maybe Creech thinks Tripp is in a lot more danger than he really is. “People get sick sometimes, it’s gonna be okay. I just don’t feel really good, okay?” 

Creech continues to burble. It’s a soothing sound, like water running over rocks in a creek, and Tripp can feel his eyes slipping closed. He can’t fall asleep in here, he knows that even though he feels too hot, it’s cold in the barn. He needs to go inside; he can’t get sicker, he has at least one test tomorrow…

When he wakes up, he’s not as stiff as he was expecting. He still feels pretty rotten, but his sore throat isn’t aching so badly, even though he can’t breathe through his nose. He blinks groggily and tries to sit up, only to realize there’s a limp weight resting on his chest and legs. 

He shakes his head, trying to make sense of what’s going on. He’s inside the truck, lying on the seats, with an old blanket that he was using as a dropcloth tucked around him. And Creech is snoring under the hood, two tentacles reaching through the dashboard and laying over him. He sighs softly and sits up, gently pushing the tentacles away. Today is going to suck, but at least he’s in good hands. He can sleep the whole ride to school, and the whole way back. Creech knows the way.

“Mornig, bud,” He mumbles, and Creech makes a concerned squeak, probably noticing that his voice sounds completely wrong. “Thanks for takig care of be.” He reaches through the gap in the dashboard to rub the little monster’s head, and Creech burbles softly. “You’re the best friend I could ask for.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have ideas for more fics in this fandom you'd like to see, let me know in the comments, or over on Tumblr @thethistlegirl!


End file.
